Blue or Black Ink
by CherryRoses
Summary: Warning: DexDark, DexterxMandark, MandarkxDexter. Boys love, in other words. As the two model students prepare for their first AP Exam, their thoughts begin to wander to contemplate deeper things... Completed two shot.
1. Blue

Blue.

A simple color. An accepted color.

After all, on tests you weren't allowed to use anything other than "blue or black ink". No red, no green, no yellow, no purple allowed. Twas unheard of. Silly. Ridiculous.

No, just black and blue. That's the way it's always been, and ever will be.

Mandark idly turned his blue ballpoint pen in his hand several times. The sound of the teacher's nasally voice droned on in the background, while the other students listened, paying rapt attention to each and every word.

It was strange that Mandark would choose blue to write with. It was accepted, certainly, but not recommended.

_"Bring two blue or black pens, preferably black." _ His AP study guide had advised him. Dismissively, he had ignored it.

Perhaps he was just being temporarily rebellious in the hope of mildly irritating (or possibly amusing) the grader of his essay. Perhaps black was just too plain, and monotone for him, and writing in blue would have added some flavor, a little bit of _zing_, spice, originality.

Or maybe his favorite color just happened to be blue.

The latter was the closest.

And certainly the most unexpected from Mandark, of all people.

Blue was beautiful.

It was the sky, unblemished by wispy clouds. Clear, open, like the shimmering waters of the ocean. The mysterious, captivating lure of an uncut sapphire, sparkling, glistening, _mesmerizing_.

But most importantly,

_Those eyes_.

Mandark felt his own eyes slide to his right, immediately falling upon the shock of red hair just a few rows away.

For a moment, it appeared as if Dexter was staring at him, watching him. But no, those lovely azure eyes would not waste a moment on him, Mandark rationalized. Surely he was listening to the teacher just to his left, who was still lecturing on the rules.

Mandark looked back down at his pen, still rotating it slowly in his hands.

He'd like to lose himself in blue. To drown in it until he forgot what all the other colors were. To forget everything in existence except blue, blue, blue…

"You may begin." The teacher's voice cut through his thoughts, prompting him to start.

And so, Mandark opened his booklet and filled it with pages upon pages with words, and the color blue.


	2. Black

Black.

A simple color. An unaccepted color.

After all, nobody liked the Dark. It was frightening, unsettling, _disturbing. _Black was the color of Death, upsetting, inevitable. The Dark was Evil, the sanctuary of the Devil. It was wicked. Sinful.

That's the way it's always been, and ever will be.

Dexter gently twisted the cap of his black fountain pen in his hands. The teacher's voice seemed to be a mere hum in the background in the quiet gymnasium, a minor disturbance in the stifling heat of a lethargic summer day.

To the average student, it was not peculiar that Dexter chose to write with black for the test. It was the color that the majority of students used, and each AP study guide and each teacher had suggested using it. He could recall with stunning accuracy the exact page of his book - _"Bring two blue or black pens, preferably black." _

Perhaps Dexter was merely conforming to the set standards of society, not wishing to disturb some fragile balance of the universe. Perhaps he believed that the fountain pen, with it's smooth handling and large reservoir of ink, would be more practical for the timed AP Exam, preventing the likelihood of his pen dying in the middle of his essay.

Or maybe his favorite color just happened to be black.

This was the closest explanation.

Black was beautiful.

It was the night sky, untarnished by bright, white stars. Silent, secretive, like the shadowy depths of the sea. The intriguing, enthralling temptation of polished ebony, gleaming, shining, _spellbinding_.

At that moment, Dexter looked up, his eyes quickly recognizing the locks of jet-black hair only a few tables away. He continued to spin the cap thoughtfully in his hands, or rather, his violet gloves that shielded his delicate hands, his sensitive fingers from harm.

One day, he'd like to run his fingers through black. To be concealed by black, a veil to hide his shame, his desire, his longing. To be engulfed, surrounded by black so that everything in existence would fade to nothing but silky, smooth, slippery darkness...

"You may begin." The teacher's voice pierced through his thoughts, pressing him to begin.

And so, Dexter opened his booklet and filled it with pages upon pages with words, and the color black.

* * *

**Hey again people. Yeah, another drabble...twoshot thing...as you can tell I got reaaaally lazy and just copied the format of the last chapter. Or maybe I did it on purpose just to show the similarities. I don't really know. **

**So this weird story, if it could be called that, was written for Aneko Kitana on deviantart :] a bunch of her friends also came together to just draw or write or whatever for her, it was really sweet. I guess I forgot to post this on fanfic for some reason. **

**Anyways as for my stories...I really hate the word permanent hiatus. Because that's just a nice way of saying "I quit". But...I'm not sure. I think I have quit. I don't know where any of my stories are going so I must end them. haha. Um. . . bye.  
**


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